The Daughter of Kings
by eep13
Summary: Eldar? Ñoldor? Vilya? "He seemed so certain about everything, didn't he? And yet none of his certainties was worth one hair of a woman's head. He wasn't even sure he was alive, because he was living like a dead man... But I was sure about me, about everything, surer than he could ever be... And so?" A tale of adventure and self discovery.
1. Prologue

**Set during the first half of the 4th season... Hopefully my readers will appreciate Tolkien references ;)**

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><p>The radiant light that had scorched the earth since mid day was fading behind the horizon, leaving a magnificent display of pinks and golds in its wake. Arya stood at the edge of a gently swaying dock staring out at the sparkling waters of the Mediterranean. Somewhere across the vast expanse of sea lay Algeria, and the young woman sighed softly as she kicked off her sandals. The wood of the dock was hot beneath her feet and she relished the feeling. Peering over the edge, she saw that it was a long drop to the water... She shivered in spite of the warm evening around her, an evening saturated with the salt of the sea.<p>

A soft breeze tousled her dark auburn hair as she pondered sullenly how long it would take before dehydration would send her to the depths between the two great continents. Her sun tanned skin that was exposed felt the kiss of a cool west wind and she smiled one last smile

Then she was falling.

Her body collided with the sparkling waters and she was wrapped up in the sea, and in its embrace Arya found the saltwater so inviting; so familiar. Her arms opened and she felt herself gliding downward and backward in a graceful ark. Even with her eyes shut the green-blue of the sea was visible - but that was probably imagined. Her mouth opened to laugh and all of her air went to the surface in mirthful bubbles and nothing mattered anymore; enveloped by the sea, warm and lost to the world Arya laughed her last laugh and welcomed the blackness that was seeping in through her eyelids. She had fallen into the sea to find death, but death had found her much quicker than she had expected.

The final cosmic joke... Nothing had ever gone the way she had expected or hoped that they would. Arya felt her entire life exiting her body and the only response her synapses could relay was _relief_. Finally, beneath the sea she was free. And even though she was unconscious and miles away (so it seemed) she felt the hand around her wrist and the whisper of air against her skin once more.

What was happening? The blackness around her was fading away and there was pain - - her sweet release was replaced by agony. It was torture! Then, she was coughing up the sea onto the dock. She couldn't see and she couldn't speak but she could hear a man's voice as though from very far away, "You're alright. You're safe."


	2. Histories

Arya woke to see a dazzling canopy of stars overhead. She sat up quickly and her heartbeat pounded throughout her head so violently that she fell back onto the pillows with a soft moan. Then, there was a man standing over her. He knelt and took her wrist, avoiding her eyes, checking her pulse.

"You'll be alright. The headache will dissipate within the hour. You need to drink." He said slowly, disjointedly, in a low voice. Arya glanced over as he pulled a thermos out of a small box beside them. It took her a moment to recognize that her bed was one of sand.

"Are we in a Desert?" She asked hoarsely, confused.

"Yes the Sahara." He put a cup to her lips and she drank, the cool liquid soothing her burning throat as she did. She almost coughed but controlled the impulse with difficulty, closing her eyes tight in her exertion. "What is it?" the man asked, anxious. "What's the matter?"

"It hurts." she said lamely, opening her eyes to study her saviour.

He had dark hair and blue eyes, his face was graced with a few days of stubble. He was terribly handsome. Arya shifted back on the pillows.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Castiel." He said standing. "I pulled you from the water."

"Yes, I gathered." Arya said trying and failing to sit up on her own. She sighed in resignation and fell back onto the pillows. "How did you do that by the way? That beach was deserted, there was no one around for miles."

"I wasn't on the beach. I was watching from afar." He said softly.

Castiel busied himself with returning the thermos to the box and Arya took a moment to appreciate the fact that there was no judgement in his voice. Given the fact that she had been attempting to kill herself, his placid benevolence toward her was a thing that she truly appreciated. He returned his gaze to her face and she found it rather vacant while at the same time sincere beyond any expression she had ever beheld.

"From afar?"

Arya thought hard. The only thing around the lone dock had been beach and there were no hiding places. She frowned. "Where were you?"

"I heard your cries from heaven. I watched you jump from my position there. I would have come to your aid sooner but even for angels the journey was a far one."

Arya stared.

"An angel, you say?"

"Yes. I am an angel of the Lord." His face was that same mask of sincerity and Arya wondered for a wild moment whether he actually _was_ an angel. Then she laughed.

"Alright." she said. "Well Castiel, thank you for your heavenly assistance."

"You don't believe me." He said without reproach. He stood and suddenly the clear sky was full of dark thunder clouds. Arya watched in awe as a massive bolt of lightning struck the ground some kilometers away; in the light, the wings of the angel before her were thrown into relief and Arya's mouth fell open in wonder. As quickly as they had come the clouds dissipated and the stars were back overhead twinkling happily.

"Oh." Arya said quietly as Castiel sat back down in the sand beside her. Her mind was racing. Perhaps she had actually gone insane... She looked back at him and took a deep breath. "So, what then? Are you my guardian angel?"

"No, but I have been watching you throughout your many lives."

Arya stared at him. Many lives? Angels. Her head hurt worse than ever. She frowned.

"Please explain."

"Which part?"

"You said many lives... are you telling me that reincarnation is a real thing?"

"Not for humans, no. But you aren't a human."

Arya stared at him. Not a human? Her head was throbbing. She felt like it would split open at any moment.

"Aren't I?"

"No." She waited for him to explain but he said nothing. He simply looked at her without any emotion. Arya wanted to cry she was so confused.

"If I'm not a human then why are you, an angel, rescuing me from attempted suicide?"

"As I said before, I've been watching you for a long time."

"What do you mean?!" Arya cried in a violent display of emotion, sitting up and throwing the light blanket off of her. "What is happening?!"

"Calm down. You're weak and need to rest." His hands took hold of her shoulders and forced her gently back onto the pillows. Pulling the blanket back over her he said in his husky voice, "I will explain everything in due time. For now you need to sleep."

"I refuse to sleep until you tell me what exactly - " but before she could finish making her demand, Castiel had touched her head and she was instantly submerged in oblivion.

...

Arya sat up quickly and though her head spun there was no pain. The morning sunshine was streaming cheerfully through the tall windows and Arya was surprised to find herself no longer in the middle of the desert but in a four-poster bed.

"Hello?" she ventured to the empty room. It was ornate and decorated in the late baroque style. There was a gentle rustling and Castiel appeared at the foot of her bed.

"Hello." he said without inflection. She stared at him.

"Where am I?"

"That doesn't matter right now. How do you feel?"

"I feel wonderful." she threw the blankets off of her and climbed out of the overlarge bed. Standing, she faced the angel with a defiant stance. "Now, I think I deserve an explanation."

The angel nodded thoughtfully and walked across the room to sit in a large cremé armchair, silent and pensive. Arya was annoyed at his long silence. However, she kept quiet in order not to exacerbate the unpredictable being.

"You," he began. "Are not a human."

"Yes, you've informed me of that." He looked over at her surprised at the harshness of her tone.

"Yes... you're not a human. However, for the last twenty seven centuries you have been inhabiting human bodies."

Arya blinked.

"Wha- how do... I don't understand." Castiel stood and began pacing the room.

"Most of your kind have faded into the forests, but you and a handful of others persist in masquerading as natives of this world. It is a strange phenomenon, and we in heaven have watched you since we first arrived here and claimed the world from the pagan gods of old."

Arya sat back on the bed and could only stare as Castiel continued.

"In the beginning we ignored you, considering you to be harmless remnants of a world long since forgotten. Over time, what was left of your kind faded into the forests of the world, as I have already said... The few of you that remained were left unmolested. We watched with mild curiosity as you forgot yourselves and bought fully into the falsehood that you were a part of Mankind."

"Wait." Arya interrupted meekly. So overwhelmed was she by all of this information, she felt faint. However, she gripped fiercely to consciousness, desparate for the truth. "You say my kind... what do you mean? What am I?" He glanced at her and as he searched for the proper wording of his answer Arya felt she might die from waiting. Finally he spoke, slowly and in a low voice as though not to alarm her.

"In the last century, one of your brothers was plagued by dreams of his lost world and as a result was compelled to write of his reveries. Have you ever read anything written by the late J.R.R. Tolkien?"

Arya blinked.

"What?" she asked, stricken by alarm and wonder.

"Yes... long before my Father took possession of this world things were different. After the passing of the primordial world there existed a "middle-earth". When it fell into oblivion, the creatures that you know as the pagan gods claimed dominion."

"Are you telling me that the Greek Gods were real?"

"Very much so. Only, they weren't true gods... do you wish to have the Greek pantheon explained to you or the history of your Race?"

"My race, please." Arya said quickly. Castiel continued in his relatively monotone voice.

"In the middle earth there were all sorts of creatures that are extinct today. Goblins and giants and dwarves and elves. There were men too, but they were very different than the men that walk the earth today."

"How so?"

"They were much taller and their souls belonged to a creator whom I have no knowledge of... but the men of old should not concern you as you were not of their kind."

"But then what am I?"

"Different beings experienced different deaths in your middle-earth. For example, men passed out of the realm and dwarves passed into in, literally... their spirits went into the earth. Elves however simply faded, doomed to wander this earth until the end of all things."

Arya stared at him.

"Are you trying to tell me that I am a Tolkien-Elf spirit possessing the body of an unsuspecting human?" Arya asked with disdain.

"Do you remember your parents?" He asked. Arya raised an eyebrow.

"No, I was an orphan. Did you not know that?"

"Do you remember your childhood?"

"What do you mean?" She asked, confused.

"I mean exactly what I said. Do you remember?" Arya scoffed, about to recount the tales of her youth spent on a farm in Vermont when suddenly she realized that she would have been speaking falsehoods. She blinked, taken aback by the sudden realization that she had no memory of a childhood. No memory of anything...

"Your body belongs to no one but yourself." Castiel said, pulling her from her thoughts. "It is made of the stuff of the earth and the stars. You sang it into being after your last body was destroyed. That was in the middle of the 19th century. "

Arya could only stare; "You can't be serious."

"What I'm telling you is the truth. You are the first elf ever to be told their history. The handful of your kind in possession of bodies have no memory or knowledge of their true Selves."

"So... so then why are you telling me? In fact," a thought came to Arya and she became excited. "If what you are telling me is true then why did you save me? If I had died couldn't I "sing" myself another body?" She smiled at him triumphantly, feeling she had won a great victory of logic.

"Yes, you could have, but it takes decades of song and there wasn't time to wait." Arya's shoulders slumped.

"No time? I - this isn't happening." She stood, panic flooding her. "What do you mean there wasn't time?!" Her lungs couldn't draw in enough air. The unreality of her situation struck her and she felt she would be sick. "Please." she implored. "I can't -" But Castiel was already beside her, putting his hand to her head and catching her as she fell.

The angel carried the lithe body of the woman back to the bed and laid her down gently. He stood staring at her for a long moment then frowned, disappearing with a rustle of wings.


End file.
